The Revelation in the Rings
by Phosphorescent
Summary: On their way through airport security, Jack Hodgins makes an interesting discovery regarding two of his friends.
1. Suspicion

_Disclaimer: If I owned Bones, I'd hardly be posting stories on a fanfiction site. Or would I…? No, I wouldn't. Rats. I guess that means I don't own it._

_A/N: Please indulge this unrealistic AU Season Six ficlet. It's fluffy and fuzzy and kept me warm when it was freezing outside… kind of like a scarf._

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><p><strong>Chapter One: Suspicion<strong>

"Please remove all jewelry, belts, coats, shoes, and any items you might have in your pockets such as keys or loose change," the TSA personnel barked over the noise of the security checkpoint. "Liquids, gels, and aerosols are allowed in quantities of 3.4 ounces or less, placed in a clear, quart-size zip-top plastic bag. Each traveler is allowed _one_ plastic bag. Remember to remove your laptop and place it in a separate tray…"

Jack Hodgins tuned out the rest of the recommendations and shifted back and forth on his feet, straining to see the end of the line. He, Agent Booth, and Dr. Brennan were almost up to the TSA representative who would check their tickets and passports before waving them through to the x-ray machines. Jack, for one, couldn't wait.

Their case was wrapped up, and finally, _finally_, they were on their way back home. He hadn't seen Angie in a week, and it was starting to wear on his nerves. He was pretty sure it was starting to wear on everyone else's nerves, too, if only because it made him cantankerous.

"Hey, bug man," Booth said, jostling him with an elbow, "pay attention."

Startled, Hodgins looked up to realize that the line had moved forward again. Hastily, he rolled his carry-on suitcase forward, and caught up to the remaining member of their small group.

"So, Dr. B.," he said cheerfully. "What are going to miss most about this trip? The luxurious accommodations?" (They'd been crammed into the world's smallest hotel rooms.) "The beautiful weather?" (It had been muggy the entire time.) "Our charming hosts?" (Who had been the most condescending, hypocritical bastards he'd worked with in a while… which was definitely saying something.)

Dr. Brennan looked confused and said, "But none of that is accurate."

Booth sent her a Look, and her eyes widened in comprehension.

"Oh," she said, "I understand. You were being sarcastic. It's amusing because our hosts were not charming, the weather was not pleasant, and our accommodations were decidedly not luxurious."

Hodgins nodded. "Right-o."

"Ah. In that case, I would say that I will miss our hosts the most," she said.

"You gotta admit that the 'gourmet' food comes a close second, though," Booth said, grimacing.

Hodgins winced in remembrance.

"Identification, please?"

He jerked his head up to see that they were right in front of the booth.

"Ah, right," he muttered, digging in his coat pocket to produce his passport.

The man did a cursory check, and handed him back his ID and ticket, before nodding him on.

"I mean, I've eaten some pretty disgusting stuff in my life," Booth continued. "But _that_ food…"

"It was like the mystery meat in a school cafeteria," Hodgins agreed.

"I thought you went to some fancy-shmancy private school," Booth said, removing his suit jacket. "Didn't they serve you guys decent food?"

Hodgins shrugged. "Eh, it was OK. But before I got my position at the Jeffersonian, I did some teaching in the public school system. Got to taste their food plenty then."

Booth winced. "My sympathies."

"According to the Wayne-Johnson study conducted this year, the average cafeteria meal contains over 90% of the recommended daily allowance of fat, almost no fiber, and more preservatives and pesticides than you could hit with a stick," Dr. Brennan pronounced, taking her laptop out of her bag.

"I think you mean 'shake a stick at'," Hodgins corrected.

Dr. Brennan frowned. "It would make more sense to hit an object than to merely shake a stick at it. Besides, I dislike ending sentences with prepositions."

"It's an idiom, Bones," Booth said in fond exasperation. "It doesn't have to make sense."

"All idioms have logical, etymological roots," Brennan protested. "One merely needs to examine the idiom in the anthropological context of its era and culture."

Hodgins tuned out their bickering. Good to know that some things never changed.

He watched Booth go through the metal detector disinterestedly.

Ah, airport security…the sheer hypocrisy of government officials, the waste of resources… it never failed to piss him off a little bit. He'd learned not to comment on this around Booth by now, though; guy had some _serious_ issues when it came to national security. 'Course, he also had some pretty sweet connections if what Dr. Brennan said was to be believed.

Shrugging it off, he stepped forward and walked through the detector. When – thank _God_ – nothing set it off, he headed over to the X-ray conveyor belt where Booth was still waiting for his plastic bin to appear.

"I hate waiting on these things," Booth muttered.

"Tell me about it," Hodgins agreed. Eyes lighting up, he prepared to launch into his rant. Unfortunately, Booth was able to recognize the warning signs of one of his speeches a mile away, and cut him off.

"That wasn't an invitation for you to wax paranoid on me," the agent warned him.

"What you call paranoid, I call informed," Hodgins retorted good-naturedly.

Booth just shook his head.

When the conveyor belt finally regurgitated Booth's bin, the man reached eagerly for it.

"Wonder what the hold-up with Dr. B. is," Hodgins murmured, craning his neck to see the anthropologist waiting irritatedly by the metal detector.

"Knowing Bones?" Booth said, "Could be anything."

Snorting in agreement, Hodgins turned around just in time to see Booth tuck a ring on a chain under his shirt.

Normally he wouldn't intrude on what was clearly a personal part of the agent's life, but Hodgins' curiosity got the better of him for once.

"What's that?" he asked casually.

"What's what?" Booth asked.

"That ring, dude. It's new," Hodgins said.

"Oh, uh, that," Booth replied. A look of panic appeared briefly in his eyes before he quickly masked it. "Old family heirloom. Pops gave it to me a couple of months ago."

The man's tone was smooth, but it didn't quite ring true.

Still, it wasn't really his business, so Hodgins shrugged and said, "Nice."

"This is entirely ridiculous," Brennan fumed, marching over to join them. "There was no reason whatsoever to hold me back, but the security guard wanted an autograph for his wife."

"Aww, give the guy a little slack," Hodgins said. "Guys in love do stupid things."

Brennan snorted feelingly. "Be that as it may…"

"Hey, don't look at me!" Booth said, holding his hands up in the air. "I fully condemn the man for misusing his authority, OK?"

"Enough to arrest him?" Brennan asked hopefully.

"Not quite that much," Booth replied, smirking slightly.

Brennan looked at him pleadingly.

"Uh-uh, Bones," Booth protested. "That would be an abuse of _my_ authority." Seeing her wide eyes, however, he sighed, and conceded, "I suppose I could have a word with him about not harassing travelers without due cause…"

Brennan smiled at him, and, groaning quietly, the agent set off in the direction of the TSA representative.

"_So_ whipped," Hodgins muttered under his breath.

"What?" Brennan asked, turning back to face him.

"Oh, nothing," Hodgins said. "You might want to grab your stuff, Dr. B. It's causing a hold-up in the line."

Brennan nodded. "I am surprised that the U.S. has not come up with a more efficient system," she commented, reaching for the bin containing her belongings.

"I'm not," Hodgins snorted. "Government's never been known for its efficiency… it's a conspiracy, I tell you—"

He broke off in mid-sentence. Dr. Brennan was retrieving a necklace with a ring that looked very similar to the one Booth was wearing about his neck.

"Uh, that's a nice ring," Hodgins said awkwardly.

"Oh," Brennan said, jerking slightly in shock. "Thank you. I was unaware that you knew much about jewelry."

Waving a hand dismissively, he said, "I don't, really. But I looked at bunch of rings the first time Angela and I got engaged, so, uh, I've sort of got an eye for them now."

"Anthropologically speaking, men in our culture feel that a familiarity with jewelry emasculates them," Brennan remarked.

Used to the forensic anthropologist's seemingly disconnected statements, Hodgins waited for her to get to her point.

"The fact that you feel you must justify your knowledge of jewelry merely illustrates that cultural tendency."

"Right," Hodgins said, gesturing towards her ring, "So what's the story with it?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"Your jewelry always has stories associated with it," Hodgins continued. "Ange loves telling me how you got this-and-such piece from some random grateful tribe."

"They are not 'random' tribes," Brennan reproved. "But you are correct, I prefer for my adornments to have meaning beyond their obvious aesthetic value. I… happened to purchase this ring from a local vendor while I was in Maluku; the profits allowed him to support his family."

Hodgins nodded appreciatively and dropped the subject.

Why had she stammered, though? And why did her Malukian ring resemble Booth's family heirloom so strongly?

Eh, maybe Ange was right. Maybe he _was_ "getting paranoid in his old age".

He kinda doubted it, though.

Still, it wasn't as though it was any of his business. Booth and Dr. B. deserved their privacy. And if what he suspected was true, he'd get the full story soon enough.


	2. Confrontation

_Disclaimer: Shockingly, I still do not own Bones._

_A/N: Ask and ye shall receive. Within reason, of course. ;-) This fic is officially multi-chaptered now! My current plan has it at approximately 3 to 5 chapters in total. Warning, however: I'm generally a slow updater. My apologies for this in advance._

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><p><strong>Chapter Two: Confrontation<strong>

So he'd meant to let sleeping dogs lie. Really, he had.

Only, as he sat in the airplane, it occurred to him that Angela would _kill_ him if she discovered he'd kept a secret this big from her. Booth and Dr. B. were a cause close to her heart, after all.

Which meant he had to confront them. Goody.

How to start _that _conversation, though?

"_Hey, Booth, Dr. B., do anything exciting recently? Make any big, life-changing decisions that your friends should know about? Like, say, becoming a couple or getting married?"_

Yeah, _that_ would go over well. Both Booth and Dr. B. were intensely private people, even though that wasn't always obvious. And Hodgins was well aware that between the two of them, they could easily kill him and destroy the evidence, leaving no one the wiser.

Hodgins was rather fond of life at the moment. He had no desire to shuffle off this mortal coil.

This required a delicate hand…

"Hey, Booth, Dr. B., do anything exciting recently?"

Hey, he never said that _he_ possessed that delicate hand.

"Since we last saw you in line to board the plane, you mean?" Booth asked dryly.

"Yeah."

"Well, I calculated the number of passengers that will be aboard this flight. Does that count as exciting?" Brennan inquired.

"It isn't my business what the two of you get up to in your spare time," Hodgins said casually. "However, I'm married to Angela, and that means that my first loyalty has to be to her. But we're friends too. So… I'm giving you guys a week to tell Angela or I'll have to do it. Sorry."

"Tell Angela what?" Brennan asked.

"The story of those conveniently-matching rings that you and Booth are hiding."

"I don't know what you mean," Brennan stated in a rather unconvincing tone.

Booth, meanwhile, was suspiciously silent.

Hodgins silently prayed that the man wasn't reaching for his gun.

"Besides, your proof is highly circumstantial," Brennan concluded smugly.

"You really think that's going to stop Ange from bugging you?" Hodgins snorted.

Brennan's eyes widened and she turned to Booth.

"He has a point, Booth," she whispered loudly.

"I know, Bones," Booth grumbled. "And I love you, but you _suck_ at being sneaky. This was bound to happen sometime sooner or later."

Hodgins was no twittering teenage fangirl, but he had to fight to keep a grin off his face.

Hah! Confirmation! Take _that_! He _wasn't_ paranoid!

As it was, his eyes widened in surprise at hearing the agent's casual declaration of love. How long had this been going on? And how on earth had they managed to hide it? 'Cause Booth was right; Dr. B. had many talents, but lying definitely wasn't one of them.

"I am an excellent actress," Brennan protested, "and I am very good at keeping secrets."

"You're good at keeping secrets," Booth agreed. "And you're great at doing undercover work with me."

Hodgins noticed that Booth carefully avoided mention of Brennan's general acting abilities. Smart man.

Huh. Now that he thought about it, Booth had a point. Dr. B. was suspiciously good at pretending to be Booth's kooky significant other while undercover.

Oh God. Was that like some form of role-playing for them or something? Eeuch. He needed his brain bleached now. He'd never be able to think about those cases in the same light again.

In fact, as he stopped and thought about it, a bunch of things from the past couple of months were starting to make a heck of a lot more sense. It hadn't even occurred to him to be suspicious at the time because, well, what were the odds that Booth and Brennan were going to come to their senses any time soon? He'd pretty much lost all hope of those two ever figuring things out.

Come to think of it, they'd all become so used to Dr. B. and Booth's strangely intimate behavior that nothing short of making out in the middle of the Jeffersonian would have alerted them to any changes in the partners' relationship. Well, that or a set of matching rings.

Huh.

"So, Bones," Booth said. "Which CP do you think we should use?"

"I lean towards CP A," Brennan replied. Upon seeing Hodgins' puzzled, expression, she explained, "Booth and I came up with a variety of contingency plans to be implemented in the case of premature discovery."

"Uh," Hodgins stuttered, "People will notice if I don't return from this trip. Particularly Angela and our unborn child."

Booth snorted. "Relax, Hodgins, we're not going to dispose of your body."

"That's not contingency plan A," Brennan agreed calmly.

"You mean… you actually _do_ have a plan for making someone disappear?" Hodgins questioned as steadily as he could.

"Yeah, but it doesn't involve anything so drastic as _killing_ someone," Booth replied in amusement.

"It's always best to be prepared for any eventuality," Brennan said with a shrug. "If someone in a position of authority refuses to let us work together, Plans T, U, and V all involve ways to blackmail or discredit and remove them from their positions. Obviously, these are last resort measures."

"Obviously," Hodgins echoed weakly.

He'd forgotten how devious the pair could be when threatened.

"But Hodgins isn't going to tell anyone about our plans, right buddy?" Booth asked, clapping him a bit too hard on the back.

"Me?" Hodgins said. "I didn't hear anything. And, uh, even if I had – which I didn't – I would totally be on board with it. Because you guys are my friends and because I'm always hypothetically up for pulling one over on the bigwigs."

"See, Booth?" Brennan said, smiling proudly. "I told you that Hodgins would be on our side."

All Hodgins could think was that it was a good thing that the first-class cabin was empty. Anyone who'd heard this conversation would have reported it to Homeland Security ASAP.

"So what is Plan A then?" Hodgins asked.

"Tell the truth," Booth said, shrugging.

Seeing Hodgins' puzzled expression, Brennan elaborated, "Plan A is to tell our colleagues the truth about our new relationship status."

"What about your family?" Hodgins asked.

"Well, Parker and Rebecca already know, of course," Brennan said. "And naturally we'll tell everyone else once we've told people at work."

"Uh, Bones?" Booth ventured. "It might be a good idea to tell your dad before then."

"Why?" Brennan asked, baffled. "He works here too, right?"

"'Cause it's common courtesy to tell family members first," Booth said, "And because I really don't want your dad to disembowel me and then set my body on fire."

"You're being ridiculous, Booth," Brennan sniffed. "My father isn't going to hurt you."

Booth looked skeptical and Hodgins couldn't help but agree.

"Are you sure about that, Dr. B.?" he asked. "Because Angela's father isn't a former criminal mastermind, and he's certainly managed to give _me_ plenty of grief."

"My father wouldn't do anything to go back to jail. He _promised_," Brennan said anxiously.

"Yeah, but who says he'd get caught?" Hodgins asked.

"He'd get caught," Brennan promised grimly. "He knows that if he ever does anything to Booth, he'll answer to me."

"Well _that's_ reassuring," Booth muttered. "If your father horribly kills me, at least I know that he'll go to prison."

"You know what?" Hodgins said, cutting into the amiably bickering couple's conversation. "I'm going to take a nap. But, uh, I'll look forward to the big reveal next week."

And with those words, he reclined his chair, put in a pair of earplugs, and tried his best to fall asleep.

Sometimes it was better not to know everything. Plausible deniability and all that.


	3. Revelation

_Disclaimer: Despite my best efforts, I still do not own Bones._

_A/N: I hope that you all enjoyed/are enjoying your winter holiday!_

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><p><strong>Chapter Three: Revelation<strong>

True to their word, Doctor Brennan and Booth gathered the members of the Jeffersonian team together at the Founding Fathers one evening after work. To Hodgins' surprise, they did this a mere four days after their return flight touched the ground in D.C. He'd thought that they'd wait until the last possible second, for sure.

"Everyone, Bones and I have an announcement to make," Booth said, speaking up over the clamor of voices.

Hodgins glanced at his wife, who was fidgeting ever-so-imperceptibly in her seat in anticipation.

Brennan nodded at her partner, then stated bluntly, "Booth and I have entered into a legally binding agreement that amalgamates the various aspects of our lives."

Her words were matter-of-fact, but Hodgins could hear the underlying tone of nervousness in her voice.

"A legally binding agreement?" Angela asked, slowly lowering her glass of water to the table. "What exactly are you saying, sweetie?"

Brennan furrowed her brow, obviously having thought that she'd been perfectly clear.

"What Bones means to say is, we're married," Booth explained.

Everyone stared at them. Then the questions started.

"The two of you are _married_?" Cam said, shocked. "When did this happen?"

"Early March," Brennan replied.

"But… but… that was four months ago," Sweets sputtered. "The two of you weren't even in an official relationship, and now you're _married_? That's not healthy, guys. You can't avoid your issues just by signing a piece of paper. I really think we should arrange for a counseling session to discuss this."

"Uh, no," Booth said. "Besides, you wanted us to get together. Bones and I thought you'd be happy for us."

"Well, of course I'm happy for you," Sweets hastily backtracked. "You guys deserve to be happy. But I'm concerned both as your friend and your therapist at how sudden this is."

Angela, in the meantime, was shaking her head in disbelief. "And here I thought you and Agent Studly had called this conference to inform us about your covert relationship," she told Brennan.

"Wait, you knew about this?" Hodgins asked her.

"Of course I knew," Angela snorted. "Oh, they thought they were being sneaky, but it was obvious. I just didn't have the heart to tell them otherwise. Besides, I figured Brennan would come to me about it when she was ready; I didn't want to push her for fear of messing things up. But I hadn't realized that they'd gotten _married_."

"I'm sorry, Ange," Brennan apologized, "but Booth and I needed the time to come to terms with the relationship on our own."

"And if we were just talking about a secret boyfriend-girlfriend thing, I'd get it," Angela replied. "But the two of you got married four whole months ago, Bren. You've had a _lot _of time. At least seven months in total, by my estimate."

"Nine months, actually," Brennan corrected. "But your guess is surprisingly accurate, especially since Booth and I didn't start having intercourse until the timeframe that you specified."

"Bones!" Booth hissed, looking pained.

"Oh! Sorry, _making love_," Brennan corrected.

"Not the point," Booth returned in a lowered voice. "Some things are private. Our sex life is one of those things that should stay just between the two of us."

"Like the meatloaf," Brennan said, looking enlightened.

"Right," Booth agreed.

Hodgins was baffled… what on earth did meatloaf have to do with sex? Then again, maybe he didn't want to know.

"I really think that the two of you would benefit from a return to therapy," Sweets insisted. "Therapy helps couples to establish boundaries and to improve their communication skills."

Ignoring Sweets, Angela continued, "And speaking of sex, sweetie, I'll expect details later. Lots of them. You owe me. But first… how did the two of you get together?"

"I think we'd all like to know that," Cam agreed.

Brennan turned to look at Booth.

"Should we tell them?" she asked, smiling secretively.

"Yes, yes you should," Sweets insisted.

"Eh, might as well," Booth said, returning her smile fondly.

"In order to understand how Booth and I entered a monogamous sexual relationship, you need to know the events that led to us traveling to the metaphorical opposite ends of the globe last summer," Brennan began. "It all started when Doctor Sweets gave us advanced copies of his manuscript for the book that he was writing about our partnership."

"That's right," Hodgins said to Sweets. "That's why you kept hanging around with us after Booth and Dr. B. were done with their mandated counseling. Whatever happened to that thing? Publisher not pick it up?"

Sweets scowled at him.

"For your information –" he began.

"– Sweets had wanted our opinion on the book before it went to press," Booth continued, casually interrupting the therapist. "Good thing, too, or he wouldn't have included our first case."

"He also had quite a few typos," Brennan chimed in.

"Hey, it was a rough draft," Sweets protested. "Besides, who totally called you guys on being in love, huh? For all that you mock me, I'm trained in reading human behavior and my book's conclusion was _right_."

"Not to steal your thunder, Doctor Sweets, but I knew Booth and Doctor Brennan had feelings for one another within my first couple of days at the Jeffersonian," Cam said wryly. "They've never been what you'd call subtle."

"Interesting," Sweets said. "And yet you engaged in a relationship with Agent Booth nonetheless. Why is that, do you think?"

"It was just sex," Cam said, rolling her eyes. "And I knew that they had feelings for each other, not that they were in love. I didn't figure that one out until the Gravedigger struck. And it's all really none of your business, Doctor Sweets."

"I find that I am inclined to agree," Brennan said.

Cam nodded at Brennan in thanks.

"After informing Doctor Sweets about our first case and how we almost had sex –"

"Hold on, back that train up," Hodgins said. "The two of you almost hooked up way back _then_?"

"That was my reaction," Sweets said in sympathy.

"Train?" Brennan asked. "I assume that that is a metaphorical expression of some sort, as there are no visible trains here."

"It's like a train of thought," Angela explained. "And yeah, I remember that. You gave me some lame excuse about the alcohol affecting your judgment… as if that had ever stopped you from a one-night stand before."

Brennan shrugged uncomfortably.

"Getting back on track…" Booth said.

Brennan chortled appreciatively. "That's funny," she said, "because we were discussing metaphorical trains and trains have tracks."

"Yeah, we got that," Hodgins mumbled.

"After telling Sweets about our first case, he concluded – rather erroneously, I might add – that Booth and I had been punishing each other for missing our chance. Then he proceeded to bait Booth, telling him that he needed to 'break the stalemate' because he was the gambler."

Sweets winced, saying, "It sounds bad when you say it like that. The two of you desperately needed to clear the air and who better to help you do that than a licensed therapist?"

"It was a gross abuse of your authority," Brennan scolded. "You should never have used Booth's degenerate past against him."

"He didn't mean it like that, Bones," Booth said in defense of the shrink who was rapidly shrinking before her tirade.

"Hmmph," Bones muttered.

"I took Sweets' words to heart and tried to convince Bones to give a relationship between us a try," Booth said, picking up the story. "Unfortunately, I pushed her too hard too fast and she turned me down."

"Then the dig in Maluku came up," Brennan continued. "I would have wanted to go regardless, but I will admit that the excuse to escape was an added benefit."

"The army had been bugging me for ages to come back to help train soldiers," Booth said. "And getting away sounded _really_ appealing after everything."

Brennan shrugged and said, "While I was in Maluku, I gradually came to the realization that Booth was worth losing my impenetrability for. Although I did not tell him this, we did begin to correspond regularly via email."

"It wasn't a courtship yet," Booth clarified, "but we did re-solidify our friendship."

Angela's stomach let out a loud growl at this point.

"Sorry," she said sheepishly. "The baby wants food."

"I'll get the waitress," Hodgins said promptly. "Do you know what you want?"

"A cheeseburger with strawberry jelly, pickles, and sprouts," Angela said promptly. "Oh, and a wedge of that fudge cake that they make here."

"Actually," Cam said, "I'm getting hungry myself. Why don't we all just eat dinner here?"

"I am amendable to that suggestion," Brennan said promptly.

"Great, I'll get us some menus," Hodgins said, and left in search of a waitress.

Come to think of it, it wasn't at all surprising that everyone was hungry. It'd been hours since lunch, after all.

Now where _was_ that waitress?


	4. Explanation

_Disclaimer: Let's do a simple word problem. Hart Hanson and Fox own Bones. If I ≠ Hart Hanson or Fox, do I own Bones? Extra Credit: Using the information from the first question, determine the airspeed velocity of an African swallow carrying a coconut._

_A/N: __I'm trying a slightly new style here. Brief B/B flashbacks (of which our narrator, Hodgins, is unaware) are italicized and enclosed in brackets. Also, FYI, cos^2(x) + sin^2(x) = 1._

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><p><strong>Chapter Four: Explanation<strong>

Once they'd all been sufficiently fed and watered, Booth and Doctor Brennan resumed their story.

"So you guys got your friendship back on track," Angela said leadingly, leaning back and patting her full stomach.

"Correct," Brennan said.

"…and?" Sweets asked impatiently when no more information seemed to be forthcoming.

"Booth and I were jogging together one weekend," Brennan began slowly. "It is imperative for us to stay in good shape, you know, particularly in light of our respective professions."

Booth smiled wryly at her comment and said, "That's where you're starting the story? Really?"

"Why wouldn't I start it there?" Brennan asked.

"Oh, I don't know, because the story actually begins the night _before_ we went jogging?" Booth snorted, eyes intent on the woman next to him.

Angela waggled her eyebrows in obvious innuendo, causing Hodgins to snort with laughter. Even Cam was having a hard time keeping a straight face.

"Not like that!" Booth protested quickly.

"Sure," Angela commented, her voice tinged with amused skepticism.

"Seriously, you squints need to get your minds out of the gutter," Booth grumbled, before continuing, "Bones was over at my place for dinner when she made a very interesting comment."

In an exasperated tone, Brennan insisted, "This is irrelevant, Booth. The story begins the next morning."

Booth shook his finger at her playfully and said, "Ah, ah, I beg to differ. Your comment that night is_ very_ relevant to this story, Bones." Smiling, he continued, "She asked me, 'Do you still believe in fate?'."

"Booth told me that he did," Brennan said shortly, obviously skipping over a portion of the tale. "The next day, while we were out jogging, I reminded Booth that I am a scientist, and, as such, am capable of learning from my mistakes. I explained that I had made a mistake that night on the Hoover steps; I had forgotten that, like all living organisms, I am capable of change, whether I understand it or not."

_["In conclusion, I have evolved," Brennan declared from beside him, her movements perfectly in sync with his own._

"_Wait," Booth huffed, stopping to catch his breath. "Just what are you saying, Bones?"_

_Time stood still. _

_Her next words sent his world spinning: _

"_I believe that we should conduct an interpersonal experiment."]_

Booth smiled in remembrance. "She suggested that we engage in an experiment together."

Angela's jaw dropped and Hodgins grinned.

It was such a _Brennan_ way to suggest a relationship. (As a fellow scientist, he totally approved.)

_["Prior evidence suggests that the results will be favorable so long as we engage in honest and open communication," Brennan continued._

"_Then in the interest of being honest and open, are you saying you want to give this" – he gestured between the two of them – "a chance?"_

"_I am saying that we are more than a mere chance," Brennan replied.]_

"We kissed," Booth said.

"There was tongue contact," Brennan added smugly.

_[When they parted, Booth said, grinning, "You know, Dr. Brennan, I believe someone like you could benefit hugely from an association from someone like me."_

"_I believe that we could benefit hugely from each another," Brennan corrected, cheeks flushed._

"_Hey, we can do this," Booth said, slinging an arm around her shoulders. "Nothing big has to change. We're still us, right? We'll just take this one step at a time."_

"_The best experiments have control factors," Brennan agreed. "However, I believe that we would both benefit _hugely_ if we began the hands-on portion of our experiment as soon as possible. Metaphorically speaking, you can be cos^2 and I'll be sin^2_."

"_I don't know that means."_

"_Don't worry," Brennan replied, smirking, "I am excellent at practical demonstrations."]_

"We agreed that we would start dating, but take it slow," Booth explained. "The plan was to wait until everything was stable before we told anyone about us."

"So how did the whole marriage thing come about?" Cam asked. "No offence, Dr. Brennan, but I always thought that you were against that."

"None taken," Brennan said. "And you are partially correct."

"A commitment like marriage would certainly imply that the two of you felt as though the relationship was stable," Sweets cut in. "What was your reason for not informing us?"

Booth shrugged. "Well, it wasn't exactly that simple…"


	5. Decision

_Disclaimer: __Right. I own Bones. And if you believe that, I have some magical pocket lint that I'd like to sell you…_

_A/N: The chunk of italicized text in this chapter is a flashback that Booth is relating to the group; let me know if the formatting works for you or whether it's just really confusing. __Also, the pickup lines used in this fic are adapted from the following website (without the extra spaces): __http:/ / 50-nerdy-pick-up-lines. Many thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed! Seriously, you guys are the reason why this former one-shot isn't wasting away in Hard Drive Land._

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><p><strong>Chapter Five: Decision<strong>

"You see," Booth said, a grin creeping across his face, "Bones did something that I never would have predicted. She _proposed_."

"I did not propose!" Brennan sniffed indignantly. "You were the one who said that we should get married."

"Only 'cause _you_ said we'd get married someday."

"Parker was the one to bring up the subject; I merely answered his question," Brennan protested.

"Wait, wait, wait," Sweets said. "Parker was there?"

Booth nodded. "Yeah, we were eating lunch at Bones' apartment. Her world famous mac & cheese, in fact…"

"_Are you and my dad going to get married now that you're boyfriend and girlfriend?" Parker asked curiously._

"_That depends on your father," Brennan replied promptly. "But I assume that we will someday, yes. Booth is very traditional and I have come to understand that certain compromises are necessary in a romantic relationship."_

_Booth sputtered on his bite of macaroni. When he'd finally swallowed it, he said, "I thought you didn't believe in marriage, Bones."_

"_I don't," Brennan said simply. "A signed piece of paper will not essentially change the nature of any relationship. But you believe in marriage and I… I believe in you. You are important to me, Booth. Besides, there are multiple practical benefits to being legally connected with one another. If we get married, society will recognize the seriousness of our relationship; this will be reflected in the rights and protections we will be afforded under the law."_

"_Bones," Booth said slowly, "are you proposing to me?"_

"_I am merely pointing out the pragmatism of such an arrangement," Brennan said calmly, wiping her mouth with a napkin._

_A grin blossomed across Booth's face. "You are! You, Temperance Brennan, are _proposing_."_

_Brennan shifted uncomfortably. "You are misinterpreting my comments."_

"_No, I'm pretty sure I understood you, Bones. You want to marry me. I have to say, I wasn't exactly expecting this, but sure, let's get married."_

_Parker, who had been watching the verbal tennis match with keen interest, said, "Cool. Does this mean I get to use your swimming pool more often, Bones?"_

"_I suppose that depends on where Booth and I choose to live," Brennan said, shrugging. Picking up her cell phone, she scrolled through something on it and added, "Why don't we go down to the courthouse today, then, and get the paperwork out of the way?"_

"_You want to get married _today_?" Booth asked, his voice rising half an octave in surprise._

"_I don't see why not," Brennan said matter-of-factly. "It's just a piece of paper, Booth, and we have the time right now. Besides, we wouldn't actually be getting married today, we'd just be starting the process. It takes at least three business days for a marriage license to be issued in D.C."_

"_Oh no, we're getting married today, baby."_

"_If it is that important to you, I suspect that Caroline knows several string-pullers at the courthouse," Brennan said slowly._

"_You're brilliant, Bones," Booth said, giving her a quick peck and picking up his phone._

Angela's voice was indignant as she said, "You told _Caroline_ before you told me?"

"Hey, I didn't want Bones to get cold feet and change her mind," Booth said.

"I wouldn't have changed my mind, Booth," Brennan said quietly. "I had been thinking about this change in our relationship for a while."

"Well, I didn't want to take any chances," Booth said firmly.

"Caroline was indeed able to procure a license for us without the waiting period," Brennan informed the group. "Furthermore, Booth remembered that in his days as Noddy Comet, Dr. Wyatt had been ordained as a 'minister.' We called him, and it transpired that he was still legally qualified to officiate weddings."

"The wedding party consisted of five people: Caroline, Gordon Gordon, Parker, Bones, and me. We filled out the necessary paperwork, Gordon Gordon said a couple of ceremonial words and _bam!_ – we were husband and wife," Booth said smiling. After a brief pause, he added, "So, Bones, do you believe in fate _now_?"

"Of course not," Brennan sniffed. "I love you, Booth, but the notion of fate is positively ludicrous."

Booth's smile drooped, and Brennan rushed to clarify.

"I do not believe in fate or mystical powers or all-powerful beings," she explained. "Rather, I believe in science and verifiable fact, in human nature and patterns and probabilities. I believe in individual responsibility. Saying that you and I were fated to be together – that cheapens it. I believe that we make our own choices, and that those choices have led us to where we are today, not some ephemeral force. I believe that you and I purposefully choosing one another is far more meaningful than any predetermined destiny."

"Bones, I don't think I've ever heard you say anything so romantic," Booth said, eyes boring warmly into hers.

Earnestly, Brennan responded, "It's not romantic, Booth, it's rational."

"To-may-toe, to-mah-toe," Booth said, leaning in to kiss her.

Hodgins glanced at his wife, whose eyes were sparkling with tears.

"Hey, babe, you OK?" he asked her quietly as Booth and Brennan continued their osculation.

"I'm just so… so _happy_ for them," Angela half-sobbed. Furiously wiping a tear away from her cheek, she added, "And I hate pregnancy hormones."

Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, Hodgins drew her in closer and gave her a firm hug.

"Wait, so you told your former therapist that you were getting married, but you couldn't be bothered to tell your current one?" Sweets all-but-whined. "Not cool, guys. Not cool."

Breaking apart from their kiss, Dr. Brennan pointed out, "Only because he could act as our marriage officiant, Dr. Sweets."

"Why didn't you give us a call when you decided to get married?" Angela asked from her position in Hodgins' arms.

"I… I'm not sure," Booth said slowly. "We got so caught up in the whole wedding thing that it didn't even occur to us. Besides, you're one to talk. You and Hodgins eloped too."

Angela shrugged in rueful acknowledgment.

"Are the two of you planning on holding a belated wedding reception?" Cam asked interestedly.

"Well –" Booth began.

"– there _will_ be a reception," Angela informed the pair firmly in a tone that Hodgins recognized as one of an Official Decree. "Since we didn't get to see you two get married, you _will_ give us the satisfaction of congratulating you in a formal setting. It's simple anthropology, Bren. Your friends and family need an outlet."

"I suppose we could arrange a reception," Brennan said hesitantly.

"Leave it to me, sweetie," Angela said.

Hodgins suppressed a wince. He could already tell that reception-planning was going to dominate Angela's attention (and thus their shared lives) for the next couple of weeks.

"So how did the rest of your families take the news?" Dr. Sweets asked curiously.

"Pops was disappointed that he hadn't been present, but he was thrilled for us," Booth responded.

"He said that he couldn't believe we had taken so long getting around to it," Brennan said, smirking. "As for my father…"

"He wanted to kill me, Bones!" Booth said.

"He was just playing with you," Brennan said dismissively. "He was happy for us."

Booth retorted, "I believe his exact words were, 'Don't mess this up. You're a good guy, Booth, but if you hurt her, you'll only wish for your death to be as merciful as Garrett Delaney's and Deputy Director Kirby's. Oh, and by the way, I'm happy for the two of you.'"

"That sounds like Max," Hodgins said in a commiserating tone. "Just be glad he didn't give you a physical souvenir à la Angela's dad."

"If Bones hadn't been there, he might have," Booth insisted.

"My father knows that I can look after myself," Brennan informed the group. "And he knows that if he hurt you, I would be very displeased."

"Gee, thanks, Bones, that's really comforting," Booth muttered.

Remembering their plane conversation from the previous week, Hodgins reflected with amusement that some things never changed.

"Speaking of Parker, I believe this is our weekend to have him, correct?" Brennan asked her partner.

"Yep. In fact, we should get going so we'll be there when Rebecca drops him off," Booth agreed, getting to his feet.

As the partners pulled on their coats, Hodgins told them, "Congratulations again, guys."

"Congratulations," Cam echoed.

Angela rose to her feet and gave first Brennan, then Booth, tight hugs. "We'll talk about the reception later this weekend," she informed them.

After several rounds of goodbyes, Booth and Dr. Brennan left the bar.

"Huh," Cam said, sinking back into the booth. "Who'd have thought they'd actually get married?"

"I don't know how I missed it," Sweets muttered, shaking his head. "All the clues were there in front of me."

"Hey, don't beat yourself up," Hodgins said, feeling a bit sorry for the therapist. "None of us noticed. We'd all given up on them."

"Eh-_hem_," Angela coughed pointedly.

"Except Angela," Hodgins conceded quickly. "But she's brilliant about those sorts of things."

"Yeah I am," Angela said, waggling her eyebrows. She then leaned over and whispered into his ear, "You know what they say, Jack… subduction leads to orogeny. How about we go back home and make our bedrock?"

Hodgins' draw dropped open.

Angela had been hornier than usual recently, but he'd never heard her use a line like that one before. Angela talking nerdy? H-O-T, baby.

"Hell yeah," he stuttered. Turning to the remaining members of the team, he said, "We're gonna head out now too. Have a good night!"

Ignoring their friends' knowing smiles, he helped Angela into her coat.

Marrying Angela was undoubtedly one of the best things that had ever happened to him; it was arguably the smartest decision he'd ever made. He could only hope that the same would be true for Booth and Dr. Brennan.


End file.
